Resident Evil: Evolution
by victoriarogue
Summary: The world has been plagued by the T-virus down to the last bits of humanity residing in the White House. In a research facility located underground, Carlos Oliveira is found by a mysterious woman who has the Red Queen, Chris and Claire Redfield, and Chad Kaplan as her aids in defeating Wesker and dispatching a bomb that will wipe out the T-virus. Will they survive and defeat him?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, I know I shouldn't be working on anymore projects, but to be honest I have been having a lot of zombie dreams lately. I don't know if my brain is like some secret Mayan calendar telling me about the zombie apocalypse or what. I just know I've been having dreams about zombies more often that I usually do. Personally, I blame Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island for these dreams because I've had them since that movie premiered, but, after I watched Resident Evil, the dreams come whenever they feel like it. You would think after watching the other horror movies America is so proud of that I would have dreams about ghosts, vampires, werewolves, serial killers, or something. Nope, just zombies. I don't know if having dreams about war elephants counts as something.

So anyway, readers, this is victoriarogue with yet another project. I watched most of the Resident Evil movies and I noticed that the movie in general is just a big fan fiction. To me, it felt like a group of users took different parts of their stories, combined them together, and brought it to the big screen which is pretty badass and is highly encouraged to form better cinema.

So, uh, anyway, I originally scrapped the idea of writing a Resi-Evil fiction because I had too many unfinished projects, but my dream ended up forcing me to reconsider it. I also read the plots for the video games and noticed that the film took out a lot of stuff that made Resident Evil... Resident Evil. For one, Chris Redfield gets NO screen time and he's the one who broke open a can of kickass on Wesker. Two, you can't make Carlos Oliveira "the woman" in the series. Okay, I take that back because you _can_ make that happen. I guess in the film Carlos just seems like the bitch to me which isn't fair because they chose a hot guy to play him. I'll explain my theories on this later on. For now, enjoy this little snippet and let me know what you think through a review or message. Either one works.

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><p>Above the world, satellites are safely taking orbit. While the continents are steadily moving and life is progressing on, the satellites are watching everything from above with their digital eyes and are frowning. Many satellites have lost power since the T-virus outbreak and have left their predetermined orbits to float lifelessly through space. Only a few of them are still running from computers on Earth's surface, or, more appropriately, Earth's underground. Umbrella's main satellite is the pinnacle of spatial communication between ground computers and the satellite's operating system. However, there is one satellite not registered by any company and not carrying any known frequency. It not only floats passed Umbrella's satellite, it sends a cryptic message.<p>

_Look at us now, Umbrella... Look at this..._

The last bits of humanity are lost to the T-virus with exception to survivors who are mass located in the White House. Men and women, militia and medical faculties, pre-outbreak and post-apocalyptical survivors are all protected by the boundaries Umbrella crafted in case of emergency. Some survivors are still fighting out there, but there is no real way of knowing. One survivor, Ada Wong, was traveling through the corridors of the White House searching for the head of Umbrella: Albert Wesker. She may not know much about satellites, but she did know that something was not right about this unknown one. When she finally came across the office that Wesker was residing in, she forced her entry and slammed her hand onto his desk.

"We have a problem," Ada started, gaining the man's interest.

"I imagine so," Wesker said, calm disposition making her suspicious.

"We've detected a signal from an unidentified satellite," Ada said, face beginning to twist in anger. "It's requesting that you take a look at it."

Wesker hummed in thought and then rose to his feet. He circled about his desk and proceeded to follow the concerned Ada to the main computer area. Each screen was black with white words being typed up. Alice and her daughter were standing in the middle of the room, reading the words together. Jill Valentine was also reading the words from behind one of the signal analysts. Wesker held his hands behind his back and hummed in thought again as he walked up to one of the screens and read the words. Suddenly, a mixture of voices combined into one provided audio for the next couple of words.

_Billions of people wrongfully damned because of your selfish desire to dominate the world through biological advancements that you knew you couldn't control. How many years has it been since the outbreak? Guess what? The world's gone straight to hell. How does it feel now? You've got the world at your fingertips, or should I say you have nothing but dust and undead flesh under your fingernails? Isn't that what you wanted?_

Wesker, for a moment, becomes unnerved by the familiarity of the voices. He couldn't exactly pinpoint each one, but he could identify one of them and that was not a good sign. This person was smart, and a smart adversary was definitely not a good one. He pushed one of the analysts gently to the side and began typing a reply but he was denied access to respond and the message repeated from the beginning. He then asked, "Has anyone tracked down that satellite's signal yet?"

"No, sir, we're trying to do that now."

"Whoever it is definitely caught your attention," Alice remarked, looking at Wesker with disdain and a hint of amusement.

_You failed Umbrella. Like all great leaders who try to conquer and expand a kingdom already too large to handle, you have fallen and you have saved no one. Enjoy what little power you have left. It'll be gone soon._

Wesker ordered calmly, though his voice had a sliver of concern, "Looks like we're going on a scavenger hunt. Track down every operational satellite in orbit. I want to find out where that signal is coming from and how it found us here. I have a feeling I know who's playing with us."

Jill, Ada, and Alice exchanged looks for a moment and then returned to the screen repeating the same message. The mixture of voices repeated the same lines until the signal shut off and the security cameras returned to normal function. Wesker sighed for a moment, smirked, and then left the room. He knew exactly where that kind of transmission could have come from, but from which satellite is the real mystery.

* * *

><p>He was happy to be home as he drove through the suburbs of Rochester, Minnesota. It was a beautiful night. The stars and the moon were glittering in their purest of white translucence. He turned a corner to his left and drove up to the driveway, waiting for the garage door to lift high enough for clearance. He messed up more cars that way. It was sad really, but he didn't care. He was just excited to be home away from the Umbrella Corporation's research facility. He finally got the week off, and he was going to spend it with his wife. He got out of the car and retrieved his bouquet of flowers from the car seat. Hurriedly, he closed the door quietly and locked the doors, cussing when the vehicle made the noisy beep before locking itself up. On the wall, he pushed the garage door button and waited to make sure the thing closed. Technology keeps advancing but the frustrations when they don't work sure doesn't. When it closed, he went to open the windows just a bit to let some air travel and then locked the door behind him. He was happy enough to break out in a dance, but his cellphone killed his mood when he cussed and then quickly took it out just to turn it off. What was wrong with the world when he couldn't enjoy his time off... or his wife?<p>

When he finally entered his home, his other cellphone rang and made him stop in his tracks and roll his eyes. Today was just that day to stop any romantic gestures. He looked down to see the name on his caller ID and saw "Santana" with the picture of a guy posing near the Mona Lisa. He pushed the answer button on his iPhone and said, "Oliveira."

"Carlos, we have a situation!" the man said, sounding panicked.

Carlos held his breath for a moment and replied, "What's wrong?"

"You forgot your Viagra!" Santana said, waiting for the older man to respond.

A click of the phone and the dial tone was a proper response. Forgot his fucking Viagra? Really? His libido was punching Viagra in the ass right now and this is the bullshit he has to put up with? God, he needed new friends! Santana was a good man, though. He was fairly young in the security field and was very intelligent when it came to both research and technology use. The frightening thing about him was his good nature and love of women. He didn't care what the woman looked liked so long as she had impressive bedroom skills. Carlos just supposed that meant being in your early to mid thirties was both a time to settle down and a time to not give a shit for who you settled for. Speaking of settling down, his wife was still upstairs.

He sneakily went up the stairs and into their bedroom, hearing water run from the shower head. Okay, very classy. He could prolong the libido for a moment. He went ahead and undressed himself as he walked around the bed, placing the flowers in a presumably perfect spot, and wondering what his lady of the evening was doing before she went to shower. Apparently, she was prepping herself for something good as he spotted oils and her lingerie underneath her robes. Feeling that he couldn't take it anymore, Carlos bit back a loud whine and decided to invade his wife's privacy. Fuck surprising her! At that moment, when he was hopping on one foot to remove his footwear, Santana sent him a text. He didn't even care about what he had to say.

"I'm gonna kill that son of bitch if he calls me in the middle of the sex!" Carlos hissed, running into the bathroom.

_**Hey. Wesker wants me in Washington D.C. Tracking an unidentified satellite. You're on your own when you get back to work. Enjoy your wife, bastard.**_

She was a beautiful woman. That's all he knew. That's all he needed to know. When he pulled the curtain back, he merely stood there and watched her snap around and cover herself instinctively. When she said his name in a sharp whisper and looked into his eyes for an explanation, she only saw one thing in them: a passionate red gaze that showed nothing short of admiration. He reached out to touch her face and pulled her closer towards him. Her gorgeous fair skin, wet locks of amber, baby blue eyes, and delicate lips were calling out to him. She smiled feeling the sexual tension between them growing and planted an innocent kiss to his lips. His phone rang again several times and a hissing sound rang throughout the bathroom. He separated from his wife, looked at the showerhead, and then scoffed.

"You stay right where you are," Carlos said, swiping his finger about her straight, button nose.

"What if I don't want to?" his wife said in a sweet tone.

Carlos turned around and then said in a menacing tone, "I punish you... _vigorously_..."

His wife perked her eyebrow up and then closed the curtain as she continued to shower. She most definitely wasn't going to get her skin pruned up. May as well take that punishment. Carlos was five seconds away from humming his phone out of the window as he snatched it from the bed and then looked at his messages. Santana left the first message about leaving to DC for Wesker and then a list of other associates were leaving incomplete messages. One was from someone named Grady, another from Sarah, and several more from Yusef.

_**Yo**_

_**Hel**_

_**Someone broke**_

_**Virus spr**_

_**Missed call from Grady**_

_**Missed call from Sarah**_

"Sounds like you're busy," a familiar voice said.

Carlos turned to his wife, seeing she was wrapped in her robe and was not wearing her lingerie, and pouted. He said, "You used all the hot water."

"That thing that's pointing at me is gonna need _a lot_ of cold water," she remarked, walking over to the vanity dresser.

"That's not very nice, Alessandra," Carlos responded, sending text messages back to the callers. Since they interrupted a perfectly romantic evening, he may as well kill his plans entirely. Alessandra pulled his face towards her and stole another kiss before smacking his butt and returning to the vanity dresser.

Though he would like to continue with the lovemaking, Carlos was getting a little concerned about the messages. Something about the virus unnerved him and if it spread the whole city was in trouble. He just wished someone would call him back to tell him what happened. But if the virus spread, then no one would be able to respond and these messages would barely register if they were infected with it. Maybe he should leave. A message from an unknown caller then appeared. He slid his finger over the screen to open it and read it quietly.

_**Don't worry. Situation under control. Enjoy your wife.**_

And baby it is on...again! Carlos almost broke into his happy dance, but he decided to just stay calm and not do twenty rounds of the cabbage patch. He looked at the unknown number one more time before walking away from it, reasoning that the caller might have been a containment officer who had a working phone. As his wife, Alessandra, was drying her hair, he stretched a muscular arm across her collarbones and locked her wrists in his large hand above her head. Faintly, she gasped and then hummed an "oh" when he kissed her sensitive spot. Okay, nice surprise, hubby. She turned her head to see his face and saw the animal in his eyes. Shit, this was gonna be the rough kind of lovemaking, wasn't it?

"What, no flowers?" she asked, trying to distract him.

That didn't work. Carlos immediately yanked her body out of the sitting stool in front of the vanity dresser and dragged her to the bed with the beautiful cream roses still resting on the bed spread. Her body was shoved directly above the sheets, not touching them and only a few centimeters away from the roses to actually smell their fragrance. Neither one of them moved as she was bent over in a perfect L without any part of her body touching the bed. While it is hot to be under the spell of the laced roses, which is the ultimate reason why her arousal spiked obviously, she was sure being anchored like a shelf bracket to a wall was not enough foreplay for what was clearly about to happen.

"Any other requests, little girl?" Carlos questioned in a vicious tone. "Since you like not following orders, you're gonna have to suffer from your punishment. This stalling business that you're doing won't save you."

"What about your phone?" Alessandra asked in a whimpering sort of tone. Those roses were laced with something powerful!

Silently, Carlos pulled Alessandra back up and reached down to grab the discarded phone just lying on the bed like a dormant remote control. He bit down on the crook of her neck, causing her to yelp, and placed the annoyance of the evening in her mouth.

"If it comes out of your mouth, I'll make it painful..." Carlos hissed.

That was all she needed right then. For the next three hours - maybe more, depending on who fell asleep first - her jaws were clenching onto the phone. The teeth marks on his screen were now his pride and joy as he lay next to his wife in perfected bliss. A faint siren woke the slumbering man as he held onto his wife. He turned his attention to the window, seeing lights and slowly rose from the bed for a moment. Suddenly, the hissing noise from earlier stirred again and a pale yellow mist shot through the vents. Alessandra woke up and whispered his name but both of them went unconscious before they could react to the gas leak.

* * *

><p>The streets were quiet and empty now, but they wouldn't be for long. Umbrella's research facility had been on lockdown due to the T-virus outbreak. There were still some scientists who were in the building, but no one knows if they were rescued or not. The messages on Carlos Oliveira's cell phone were the last bits of evidence containing the status of the outbreak. Cars were scattered about in the driveways and streets. Infected were closing in on the neighborhood but weren't quite there yet. You could hear their hissing and moaning if you were in the city. You could hear them approaching. This was the only part of the neighborhood that hadn't been attacked or evacuated so it was possible that a food source was still available. Unfortunately, there were several food sources still about.<p>

A yellow Suzuki V-Strom was cruising through the suburbs with its rider calmly pulling up to a single house. It was a two-story home with a garage and large patio, perfect for whoever lived there. The rider took off the orange and yellow helmet to reveal a black woman with a wispy Mohawk. She wasn't a tall woman, 5'4" at her highest, but she was definitely a cautious one. She turned the bike off, dismounted from the vehicle, and placed the helmet on the handle of the bike. The only weapon that was equipped on her was a shotgun. Her pistols ran out of bullets earlier and were dead weight now. Her bandolier was strapped on her body in the shape of an X, and the rifle was placed on her back. She removed the rifle from its holster strap and held it up as she cautiously ran to the gate. It was locked, so her best bet was to climb over it. Luckily, there were monogram letters on the gate, so she got some leverage on the letter O with her combat boots and athletically hopped over the gate and landed with a nice thud and then walked as if she hadn't jumped down at all. A gauntlet was on her arm and it beeped to get her attention. She looked at it for a second, kept the rifle at eye level, and looked down at it to see what caused the noise. A red hologram of a little girl came onto the screen of her gauntlet-like communication device.

The hologram said, "Connie, you can't stay here. The infected have reached this area."

"I know," Connie looked up from her bangs and looked into the window where she thought she saw movement upstairs. She couldn't leave just yet. Her device found someone who was not infected with the T-virus. She then said, "But I got a read on a survivor. Help me get to the person, please, Red Queen."

Red Queen hummed in concern and then relented by saying, "You have to hurry. You only have between fifteen and twenty minutes before the infected have reached your area."

"There was a tank a few miles from here that I got on the radar. Is it operational?"

"It is, but it can only go so far before you will have to travel on foot," Red Queen replied.

Connie nodded, went to the door hurriedly, twisted the knob a few times, and then kicked it open since it was locked. Immediately, she held the rifle up to eye level and checked to see if an infected managed to break in. Nothing. All was quiet... too quiet. Connie went into the kitchen and stocked up on knives first just in case. She then hunted for a flashlight. When she obtained the items, she also saw a pistol in the drawer next to the utensils and held on to that. The magazine was full. She ran quietly to the stairs and hoped the survivor was okay. Most of the doors were opened upstairs. She didn't see anyone in the game room or one of the guest bedrooms, so she went straight for the master bedroom just to be sure. The minute she walked inside of the room, she spotted a man lying in his bed alone and breathing evenly. How didn't he hear the biocontainment units in the area? Or the evacuation sirens? Connie went over to him in silent steps and caressed his cheek. He was a handsome man.

Abruptly, the man screamed and hit her in the face with his pillow. She yelped and ducked as he swung a bat. Quickly, Connie grabbed his hand and punched him before screaming, "Hey! Hey! I'm not here to hurt you!"

"Who the fuck are you?" the man demanded, readying the bat for another swing.

"My name is Connie!" she answered. "I'm here to get you out of here. The T-virus spread and there are infected coming to this house soon."

"Connie, the infected are precisely 2600 feet from your location. You have to leave now or it will be too late to defend yourself from the massive horde. You still have to get to the tank if you want to use it," Red Queen warned.

"Look," Connie said, giving the man the handgun that she found in his kitchen. "I'm trying to save you from being eaten alive. Please..."

The man looked into her brown eyes and resigned to her pleas. He lowered his bat, took the pistol, and asked, "What about my wife?"

"She isn't here. You were the only one in the house," Connie answered, eyebrow raised in confusion.

The man looked at the bed, seeing no remnants of his wife's presence, and then looked down at himself. He was dressed in a long sleeved navy blue shirt and regular jeans with combat boots. A bulletproof vest was covering his torso, but he had no memory of dressing himself at all. Maybe this woman was lying to him and was the kidnapper of his wife trying to get him on her side. Well, at this rate, he had no real choice. For now, he would go with her until his wife was found. The woman before him was an attractive one, though. Her hair wasn't outstandingly lengthy like most black girls have it now with the weave, but it was long enough to reach the middle of her back. Her lips were large like a black woman's lips, but that was all he could say was large. Her breasts weren't D or F cups and her booty wasn't huge as far as he could tell. She had an impressive length and curve to her legs, though. He stopped looking at the woman's features and gazed into her face suspiciously. Seeing that she was desperate to leave, he reached his hand out to shake as a sign that she was on a limited supply of trust. Connie looked down at it and hesitantly shook his large hand.

"What's your name?" Connie asked.

"Carlos."

Connie nodded her head, cocked the shotgun to fire at will, and led him outside swiftly. For the first time in a long while, Carlos felt like he was living out a missing part of his life. He still didn't know who this woman was, but it was good that she seemed to be trying to help. Carlos followed her as they climbed over the gate, ran to the bike, and waited as Connie turned it on. He wanted to offer a ride in his truck, but they didn't have much time. She said the T-virus had spread and if a horde of infected were only 2000 feet away, they were on borrowed time and it was slipping fast. When the bike started, he watched as Connie typed in some coordinates on her arm brace and then straddle the bike.

_Don't stare at her ass. Don't stare at her ass. Don't stare at her ass._ Carlos chanted in his head. He didn't listen to himself, though. _Shit!_

"Here," Connie said, handing him her helmet. "Get on."


	2. Chapter 2

This is actually a short filler sort of chapter. I'll get into the more detailed stuff next chapter. I think that's when everything will get more interesting since right now you're more or less just following along with the characters. No one knows who's who at this point. Just stay tuned for now and I promise I'll make this a cool fic to read or at least a cooler one.

* * *

><p>Carlos was fairly suspicious of the woman against his chest and stomach as they rode through the streets of the suburb, but he was even more confused about how empty and lifeless everything seemed. No kids were playing in the street, no couples were playing in their lawns, no dogs were running around, the mailman's truck was just sitting in front of Old Man Wesley's house, and cars and newspapers were scattered about dotting the streets like a horror movie set. There wasn't even an evacuation line with trucks escorting people out in a designated order. Everything was just dead. What happened to him? What happened to his wife? What happened to his neighborhood?<p>

"My god," he whispered to himself.

As his eyes searched for some sign of life in hopes that his wife maybe tried to call for help and was sitting in a house somewhere, he looked at the helmet-less driver named Connie who was hard-pressed on finding some tanker. How did this woman know where to go? Or what to do? She wasn't a part of the biocontainment unit like he was and she wasn't really equipped for war like his security squad would have been in case of this kind of emergency, yet for some reason she had more grace in handling her situation than any soldier he had trained or had the pleasure of working with. She wasted no time with trying to figure out where to go and seemed efficient in combat when she led him out of his house and onto the bike.

The V-Strom began slowing down as they approached two Umbrella tanks. Carlos began to loosen his grip on Connie and was giving her some space to move until he saw about four to five Umbrella soldiers lumbering about as though they were black bears in a deserted forest of houses. Immediately, Connie pulled Carlos close to her again and revved up the engine. The bike lifted from the ground to do an almost sixty-degree wheelie and sped off as Connie hit the throttle. Carlos didn't catch the helmet-less Umbrella soldier as he limped towards them. He had serious bite wounds on his neck and it appeared to be snapped or twisted graphically in some way. His eyes were especially gruesome in appearance: a grayish blue that blended with the white. That soldier was infected and the rest were probably the same.

The soldiers roared and ran toward them at almost full speed. Two soldiers held up their guns to fire and Carlos could see one of the soldiers dropping his gun and then leaning back to stop running. He was the one who jumped onto Connie and tried to force her off the bike by tackling her down. Carlos abruptly removed the soldier's helmet to identify his incompetent coworker and yelped when he saw that one of his own men had skin ripped off at the cheeks with the blood coagulated in the wounds and his eyes were a deathly pale blue-gray color. Connie decided to take action and threw the man off her and the bike, forcing him to land head first onto the concrete. The bike was tilted at a dangerous angle and inevitably forced her to use the brakes and her left foot to propel the vehicle back upwards to straighten out. When the bike was steered straight again, she removed her shotgun from its holster on her back and used one free hand to shoot two of the Umbrella undead in the neck and head respectively.

"You can't shoot and drive at the same time! You'll crash!" Carlos warned.

"You just shut up and - !" Connie demanded.

The tank aimed its missile launcher at them, forcing the woman to shut up faster than Carlos. BOOM! The missile fired from the tank's cannon and Connie veered to the left in time to dodge the projectile and crash into another undead. Her shotgun was now lost as it clattered to the ground. The tanker tried to fire at her again, but she stopped the bike right next to it and prohibited any further use in trying to kill them. Carlos rushed to get off the bike and hit another undead soldier in the head with his bat, but the soldier had his helmet on and only fell back before slowly rising to stand and attack again. Wasting no more time with the undead, Carlos kicked the helmet off the soldier's head and stomped on him before firing his pistol and killing the soldier with a vicious headshot. When a hand clasped on his shoulder, Carlos snapped around, jumped back, and aimed his pistol at the person's head. Connie held up her hands and then gave him a look.

"If you're done beating the shit out of your men, could you help me get rid of the bodies?"

"What bodies?" Carlos questioned. Within seconds, a bomb went off and startled him as he ducked away from the fire. He looked at Connie, who looked back at the tanker, and watched as she retrieved two machine guns from the downed soldiers. She tossed an AR-34 rifle to him and hurriedly climbed onto the tanker. The hatch was opened and smoking, so she tried desperately to wave the vapors away. Carlos then asked, "When did you plant a bomb?"

"You gonna help me pull these guys out or not?" Connie asked, looking at Carlos with an annoyed glare. Carlos grumbled in resign and climbed onto the tanker, helping Connie pull out two of the now burned men out. Once they were done, Connie tapped his soldier and said politely, "Thanks, Carlos."

"Connie, the infected are now only 100 feet from your location! You have to leave now!" Red Queen ordered in an almost desperate voice.

Carlos and Connie looked into the distance and saw dozens of undead creeping up to them. They hurriedly hopped into the tank with Carlos locking the door and Connie taking the helm at the tank's controls. Once the tank began moving, Carlos took another glance at Connie as she directed the vehicle further away from the undead and down the street. This woman was doing all she could to help him, and he didn't even care enough to try to protect her. His only motive for going anywhere with her was finding his wife, but after he saw the undead coming their way he was beginning to lose some hope. He had to make a decision right here and now. Connie risked her life to save him from being overwhelmed with infected, even going so far as to find him in his abandoned home. Had he escaped the perimeter of his house and found the tank with the soldiers he would have still been dead from either being shot by a tank's missile or being infected himself.

Silently, as he looked about the small space, Carlos was beginning to remember a very useful skill and saw the missile launcher's weapon and accuracy stats. He licked his lips with thought and then looked at Connie as she turned down a street. She was hopping about a little, possibly showing some nervousness as she whispered to herself. He didn't know her motives for helping him, but he couldn't care about them either. Fine, he had his motive for this personal mission; now, he had to add another to the list, survive this disaster and help the woman who was helping him. Surprisingly, Carlos began to push a few buttons as if he somehow knew how to operate a tanker. He was sure he didn't. While he was a security officer for the Umbrella Corps facility where he worked, he only knew basic skills in handling firearms and mixed martial arts. When did he drive a tanker or handle its artillery? Regardless, Carlos looked through the telescope, locked on to a group of undead heading them off at the pass, and guided the cannon to fire.

"Yes!" Carlos cheered, killing several undead in the blast.

Connie jumped in surprise and said, "What the fuck was that?"

"Someone has to cover your ass," Carlos started, aiming at another group and firing. He then continued, smirking a little, "May as well be me."

* * *

><p>The infected just kept coming. One by one they would moan and run towards them or walk at their leisure. Teenagers, workers, and elderly people were coming for them to sink their teeth into their soft, tender flesh. Neither one of them knew how they got away from Umbrella after they were subdued at the cargo ship Arcadia. The most they remembered was Alice helped them defend the people but were overwhelmed by guards. Everything else happened so fast. They were fighting one after the other, punching and kicking and firing back, and then... nothing. Just a black puzzle piece missing from the vivid and colorful picture. The most either of them knew when they woke up was that they were in an Umbrella facility, and some woman neither of them knew was saving them from mutations that escaped their confines.<p>

Connie was her name. She was a player in a game called survival and she was damn good at it. Unlike their comrade, Alice, Connie had the Red Queen on her side. They didn't know anything about the AI construct but she did. Connie wasn't dressed in much. She wore a green t-shirt with spaghetti straps, a black bulletproof vest, two bandoliers that formed an X across her torso, a denim jacket and mini skort, a utility belt, leggings, leather gloves, a deep red scarf, and combat boots. That wasn't much for a zombie killer, but it was enough for her. Claire held some respect if not suspicion for the shorter black woman.

"Connie, are you there?" her brother demanded, shooting the last of the infected.

"Chris! Claire! We have power!" Chad exclaimed, prying the doors to the underground train open.

Chad Kaplan was a security officer trapped in the same facility like them, but he was dressed for combat. Black fatigues, bulletproof vest, mail mesh on his arms, and a good amount of ammo for his machine gun. He leapt into the train to scope out any infected or mutated while Claire and Chris followed behind. Claire was at the door, trying to fend off some of the infected so Chris could get on the train with them, and ready to close it. Chris was about to give up on the walkie talkie but tried to contact Connie one more time as he ran to the train doors and fired a few more times before helping Claire shut the door. He managed to find a block of wood sturdy enough to barricade the door and slipped it into the door handles.

"Black, can you hear me?"

_"I'm here, Chris. We're on our way to the station. Standing by."_

"We're ahead of you," Chris informed, nodding to Claire to tell her to help Chad. "Claire found the backup power generator for the train. Chad got us on it. How long are you gonna be?"

_"I'm in a tanker. The infected are starting to close in on us. We'll be a while."_

"We? Who the hell is 'we'?"

_"Later. You and the others get that train moving to the station and guard it. We have to leave out together or we'll all die. Where's Chad?"_

The train shook a bit, making Chris look behind him to see what was going on. The infected were still banging at the doors. He tuned them out to hear for Chad or Claire. When the train started moving forward, he turned back to the door and saw that the pounding of the doors was becoming less frequent. They were going at a steady pace now. Chad was coming up to Chris and smacked his shoulder. He held up his gun but an obnoxious comrade decided to force the walkie talkie in his face and snatch his machine gun away. Chad looked at the device and started rolling his eyes before talking.

"Kaplan."

_"Chad, I need your help with something. There's a survivor with me who said his wife is missing. Her name is Alessandra Henriquez Oliveira. Did you find any survivors on your end at the facility?"_

"Besides Sunshine and Daisy, no," Chad answered, earning a snort from Chris at the nicknames he had given them. Chad barely knew the man and was already a favorite...in a strange but charming way. Not that he was homo, he just found it amusing to call the hard ass of the group Sunshine. Or would it be better to call him Daisy? "Who's the survivor? Where'd you find him?"

_"His name is Carlos Oliveira. He was in the suburban part of the area. I found him in his home. He doesn't remember anything about the evacuation units, the virus spread, nothing. He just woke up in his armor. I think you'll like him, though. He **loves** baseball."_

"A man after my own heart," Chad commented.

A loud thump shook the top of the train, making Chris lead the way to Claire. If anything managed to climb on the train, they could disconnect the other cars. The only one they really needed was the driver's car. When nothing else sounded, Chad walked cautiously behind Chris and began holding his breath. He could hear both their heartbeats pounding in unison. Out of nowhere, as if he had been in this situation before, Chad began to remember steering a train very similar to this one.

He was covered in blood and wounds - mostly bite marks and scratches - and was desperate to get to his group of survivors. Ghost images of two women and a man all trapped in a lab flooded with water struck him. One of the women had her dark brown hair braided in a French style and was slowly giving way to infection as she was being carried out of the lab by the man. There was also a woman with auburn to light brown hair. He started remembering their faces and names as he put little pieces of a complex puzzle together. They were all trying to escape the infected just like he and the others now. He should've died, though. He fell from some piping and was being overwhelmed by dozens of infected all clawing at him. His heart began to pick up its pace at the memory. He was terrified, yet somehow he escaped through the air ducts. He was out of bullets from his handgun and lost all hope of going home to live another day. He should've died...but he didn't. He was bitten by undead and scratched at, but he managed to disable a computer and save his group. Then, they ran to the train together, and...

Immediately, Chad knelt to the floor and aimed his gun to the center of the walls surrounding him. A mutation had boarded the train in his past! The thumping could easily be another one, but he wasn't about to die because of it. He may not remember what happened to him after the mutation broke through the door, but he definitely remembered one breaking through. Chris crouched low and cautiously took some steps back to make sure his sister was covered. Claire then joined them, armed with two handguns, and began to scope out the cars.

When all was quiet again, Chad spoke in a whispering tone, "Chris, watch your sides. Claire, away from the doors. Something might be on this train with us."

"Your guess is as good as ours, Princess," Chris remarked, covering Chad's back.

Chad was in no mood to respond to the ridiculous nickname. He instead spoke through the device and said, "The suburbs were one of the first places hit after the spread. She's dead by now. The city's full of infected. You were only able to detect that person out of pure luck."

_"If she was infected then why wasn't he? They were in the same house prior to anything that's happened. There was an evacuation unit left behind where we were, which means she was taken but he was left behind, so she's out there somewhere. Help me find her...please."_

Chad shook his head, seeing this task as a useless thrill, and then replied, "Alright, I'll see what I can do. Was she an employee of the same facility?"

_"He says she was a pencil pusher. Find whatever you can."_

"Don't leave without us, Brown Sugar," Chad said in a flirty but alert tone.

"Let's move," Chris said, looking up at the ceiling as if something would burst through.

In fact, something did: a Licker. Unfortunately for it, though, it was fighting against someone who already faced its predecessor and two people who faced an axman...


End file.
